


Behind Black Roses & Golden Bows (ON HOLD)

by ferokamii



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: ANGEL RICKY IS MY NEW AU AND I AM NOT AFRAID TO SHOW THIS, Angel!Ricky, Human!Tinsley, Lots of swearing here so be warned!, M/M, ORIGINALLY I WANTED TINSLEY TO BE A DEMON BUT THEN MY FRIEND WAS LIKE NO, WELP HAPPY READING
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferokamii/pseuds/ferokamii
Summary: (Currently on hold, due to me needing to sort some shit out. Should the worst happen and I don't want to do this anymore, it will be deleted if no one protests, but feel free to read anyway for the time being.)He thought he knew everything when it comes to Ricky Goldsworth.Well, turns out he was wrong.~~~Tinsley, a well-known detective in America, with a respectable reputation on the line, is no stranger to murders. With a decade in the field, whether it be a simple slit to the throat or quick slashes to one's chest, he had seen it all. However, when a certain string of murders brought him to Los Angeles, all the rules flies out of the window. Especially when there's a murderous angel named Ricky Goldsworth around.What happens when Ricky gets caught? And what's going to happen when Tinsley accidentally falls in love with a deadly serial killer with no taste in his jokes? And exactly who and what is Ricky?
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth & C.C. Tinsley
Comments: 15
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first contribution to this platform and to the Buzzfeed Unsolved fandom in general. Please accept me QwQ
> 
> Please enjoy the first chappie of this fic. I am not sure how long the next one will be, so please bear with me. If you like this, please comment and give kudos :D. Those are greatly appreciated.
> 
> If there are any errors, don't be afraid to comment as well. I welcome those, as I am in a rush XD. Maybe I will rewrite one day when I feel like it. 
> 
> As I have said before, enjoy!

'Detective...' 

The low purring voice of Ricky Goldsworth slithered through his ears, sending jolts of fear down Tinsley's spine. He was a freaking detective for fuck's sake, he couldn't let a simple serial killer get the best of him. He forced himself to stare into Ricky's inky black eyes and barked out a confident 'Yes.'

'Did you ever believe in angels?' He smiled thinly, examining Tinsley like how a wolf eyes its prey. Every nerve of his was screaming at Tinsley to bolt out of the room. His arm hairs seemed to agree too. His teeth couldn't stop clattering against each other. However, he needed to finish the interrogation of the mysterious Angel of Death. Tinsley pursed his lips in a thoughtful manner before shaking his head. The serial killer narrowed his eyes suspiciously, before continuing. 'Do you believe in God and Satan? Do you believe in the monsters that prowled in the dark while the angels sleep? Do you, Detective?' 

'This isn't the place and time to do this, Goldsworth,' Tinsley remarked softly, dreading the moment the smaller man took out a cleverly-hidden knife and slit his throat before he could finish his sentence. 'We're at an interrogation.' 

Those black eyes flicked to his rat-nest of a head, his dishevelled appearance, and the drooping eye bags of Tinsley's. 'And you want to do this 'interrogation' in your shanty hideout in LA? I thought you had more class, Tinsley. No offence.' He leaned back into his chair and slammed his boots on the table, startling Tinsley for a bit. 'Though this is definitely better than that stupid holding cell back at the LAPD. I wouldn't mind spending my time here, hiding from the police like a common criminal, in which I am not,' he pouted innocently, at the same time while shooting a dirty look at Tinsley. 'I wouldn't be surprised if you interrogated me here because you're scared of your superiors. And of course, your 'reputation' is on the line, due to ah... some mishaps,' he chuckled dryly, enjoying Tinsley's unease and discomfort, 'I do wonder what made them put you in charge of lil ol' me. What made them so certain that you would be the perfect guy to find me and put me behind bars. I do wonder, Detective.'

'What happened in the past is none of your business,' Tinsley snapped at Ricky, before recoiling from fear. Ricky's dark, soulless predator eyes betrayed no emotion, yet somehow Tinsley saw a sliver of awe and perhaps respect, prompting him to snap out of his fear of the man before him. Who was he? He was Detective Tinsley who had faced death many times, he wasn't scared of a serial killer with fancy words and false threats. This thought made him confident a bit, as if he was getting back into the old 'good cop, bad cop' phase. He was certainly becoming a detective again. 'I am here because I'm one of the most reputable in my profession, unlike you here, because you were foolish enough to leave clues at one of the crime scenes. You're fighting a losing cause here, Ricky. I just want answers, and maybe I wouldn't slap on some cuffs and drag you back to the LAPD.' 

Ricky snorted in disgust, ‘Have you looked at yourself lately? You’re in no position to issue threats to me. I am always one step ahead, Detective. Maybe I should just bust out my knife and kill you right now. That would save a lot of space in this human-infested goddamned world. You seemed to be more limbs than anything.’ His eyes had a small gleam in them, daring Tinsley to challenge his words. Tinsley held his tongue, his confidence slowly fading. Who exactly was Ricky Goldsworth? And what does he want with Tinsley? ‘My only word of advice here, Detective,’ Ricky continued, glaring at the detective disdainfully, ‘is to keep your nose out of my shit. And maybe then I can spare you.’

'It's been a good talk, Detective. I do hope that you would be one of the last to die.'

~~~

Tinsley wasn’t sure how he ended up in LA.

Was it the seemingly pristine image of LA that drew Tinsley in? Or the desperate side of him trying to make amends for all the wrongs he had done in the past? Whatever the case, when his old boss, Banjo McClintock, presented the Black Rose Killings to him, he immediately took up the case. A month later, he found himself flying out to the City of Angels where famous movie stars are born. Tinsley managed to snag himself a sweet deal with an old apartment, considering how cutthroat LA’s real estate is. However, the owner failed to warn him that the apartment block where Tinsley was staying was the worst in the neighbourhood, where parents leave their children to die.

Less than a week into the investigation, the 6th murder in the Black Rose killings came about, this time the crime scene was at a park less than a 10 minute walk away from his apartment. When Tinsley arrived, the police were frantically shooing away visitors, while murmuring to themselves in low tones. As he passed each officer, Tinsley managed to hear snippets of conversation between them. There were odd remarks about how the victim was one of the lucky ones. He was severely drugged before getting killed. The others weren’t quite lucky…

When Tinsley reached the spot where the body laid, the sight sickened him straight to his core. He had to leave the scene for several minutes before mentally preparing himself to examine the evidence left by the killer. There was blood splattered everywhere, the guy had a bullet hole where his heart was, and shocked blue eyes stared wide into the empty sky. There were 6 knife slashes on his throat, eyes as well as his mouth. There were scratch marks around those areas as well, giving off the impression that despite being drugged, he could still feel the agony of the knife, perhaps trying to fight off his killer. On top of that, there was a black rose with a golden bow tied around its stem, sewn into the victim’s left wrist. The rose was coated in thick red blood and glistened with the overhead sun passing by. 

Tinsley’s heart stopped, this was definitely the mark of the Black Rose Killer, as the police had dubbed him as. They also referred to him as the Angel of Death, one that strikes swiftly and without mercy. If this was one of the lucky ones… then he dread seeing the corpses of the others. 

A sudden movement caught Tinsley’s eye. He saw a man emerging out of the nearby alleyway with a bloodstained cloth covering something in his hands. His mental gears began to shift, yet he took a longing look at the body. What if he missed out an important piece of evidence there? What if this guy was simply a butcher, judging from the stench of the alleyway? He cast his gaze onto the panicked and frantic police, ultimately deciding to question the man. Surely they can take care of the dead body. 

The man was hurrying from the scene of the crime, still carrying the bloodstained cloth. Tinsley was weaving through the onlookers that had arrived earlier, trying his best to catch up with the suspicious man. He was pushing everyone aside, and occasionally screamed out orders that the authorities would forbid him from saying. However, Tinsley did not give a fuck about his superiors right now, he needed to catch a criminal. 

Fortunately, his long legs were able to keep up with the criminal and Tinsley was certain that the small guy couldn't be more than 5 ft 9 and 3/4 (he was quite nitpicky with the fact that those people claim to be 5 ft 10 when in truth they are just slightly smaller), which gave him a disadvantage when it comes to speed. However in terms of artful dodging, he was certainly the pro and Tinsley would often pause to squint at pedestrians streaming in, before heavy footsteps reminded him of the guy's location. Once he managed to close the distance between them, he started to notice small details about the guy that he did not quite catch earlier. The way the messy raven black hair of his seemed to glisten in the dimming sunlight, or his uneven footsteps slapping on the wet concrete from the previous night's rain. 

He managed to tackle the guy from behind and wrestled the bloodstained cloth out of his hands. The guy made no attempt to fight back and simply watched on in amusement as Tinsley tried to pry open his fingers in order to get the cloth. 'I see that you finally caught me, little Detective.'

Tinsley grunted as he twisted the guy's pinkie and snatched the bloodstained cloth out of the criminal's hand. 'You're under arrest,' he gasped, suddenly wishing that he had taken Banjo's suggestion of going to gym class, 'for leaving the crime scene under suspicious circumstances, thus making you a suspect in this case.' He narrowed his eyes at the small man. 'Under no objections are you allowed to speak while you're under custody, got it?' 

'Oh, do you have your handy dandy handcuffs with you right now? Or that fancy taser that the police use? Well, Detective, I am sorry to remind you that you have neither of those, making it almost impossible to keep me here,' The guy grinned, however the smile didn't quite reach his eyes, 'I suggest that you actually remember to bring those next time. And let's not forget the time it took to get you here at this spot. My my, you really needed to work on your athletic skills.' 

The detective gritted his teeth at the guy. For the love of fuck, if this cocky bastard was in fact the murderer, Tinsley would feel sorry for the investigator for this case. Wait... Moving on... 'You are a suspect in the recent murder at the park. Do you deny it?' 

The man flicked his gaze to the bloodstained cloth in Tinsley's hand. 'Why don't you take a peek at that and decide for yourself? I find it beneath myself to do so.' Those dark eyes issued a challenge to him, should Tinsley let go of Ricky and allow the slimy weasel to escape, just to see what is beneath that cloth? Or should he simply refuse to do so and deny the only potential piece of evidence to this case? 'As long as you don't move,' Tinsley decided, glaring at the smiling man, who smirked in response. With trembling fingers, he pulled off the cloth to reveal the bloodstained knife. 

'I fucking knew it,' Tinsley hissed. 'You're coming with me to the LAPD, right now.' 

'Well, I would, but...' The guy droned. 'You would get into trouble for abandoning the scene of the crime to chase down someone who doesn't exist. One might say you are going crazy, maybe get that head checked with the mental asylum down the road.' He waved his hand in that direction. Tinsley made a growling noise at the back of his throat. He wanted to tear this guy's tongue out so badly, yet he managed to suppressed the feeling. He was a professional detective for god's sake. 

'What do you mean someone who doesn't exist?' Tinsley pressed on, grabbing the guy's collar in fury. 'You and I know damn well that you are here annoying the shit out of me, unless you fully cooperate, there may be severe repercussions for you, maybe an extended jail sentence, if I am feeling generous.'

'You fully know you wouldn't, Detective,' The man's voice suddenly turned cold. 'A little one like you simply couldn't do anything, while I slaughtered many others. You're in a state of vulnerability while I will always have the upper hand. These mortals cannot comprehend my existence, so I suggest you let me do my thing. Maybe I will be the generous one and leave you alive after the apocalypse. Maybe you would be the last to die, do not underestimate me.' 

'I can do whatever the fuck I want here, little man,' Tinsley mocked, slowly exhaling to calm his nerves and beating heart. He couldn't lose it at this very moment. He would rage later when he's alone in his apartment. 'You shouldn't underestimate me too.'

The eyes of the predator trained on his face, scrutinising each detail of Tinsley. 'I think I already know a lot about you, Tinsley. You're a clueless detective with no experience in the way things are run here. Do not forget who you are speaking to here. Me, the Angel of Death. Me, the Black Rose Killer. Me, the serial killer who could slit your throat with no hesitation. Make one wrong move and you may find yourself on the wrong side of my knife. Look at me, Detective. Never forget my face. Never forget the name Ricky Goldsworth, because it will be the last words you will hear if I find you again. Now if you excuse me...' 

He slammed his fist against Tinsley's face, and the detective grimaced, his nose bleeding like a pair of red waterfalls. His head was spinning, for a small guy, Ricky had superhuman strength. Tinsley staggered, trying to regain his senses, however the pain that erupted was enough to make him black out. Through fluttering eyelids, he watched as Ricky snatched up the knife, and wondered with cold, detached fear if he was going to die. Ricky walked up to him and smirked that stupid little grin of his, ‘It’s a game of cat and mouse, Detective. Do try to keep up.’ The pain overtook Tinsley’s senses, and before long, he found himself in that familiar darkness. 

It was when he woke up a few hours later when he realised something.

How the fuck did Ricky know his name?


	2. Welcome to the Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tinsley goes to the office to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this a day early :D! Just so you guys have something to do during this pandemic! Please stay safe out there guys!
> 
> Ok this may be a shorter chappie than usual but I did have to struggle with a bit of writer's block so please love me.
> 
> (I left a Hunger Games reference kinda thingie here XD, I knew I have been watching too much of those, also Jennifer Lawrence did not have child pornography material I hope...)
> 
> Tinsley's real name is something off the top of my head, but Ik someone out there probably had this already so credit to that person. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave comments and kudos if you guys enjoyed it :D

It was well past midnight when Tinsley arrived at the office, dragging his sorry excuse of a body past the front door. The few officers that were still there spared no glance at him, however he did catch a few angry glares directed at him as he pushed open the door to his office. 

One would hardly describe it as an office, more like a large supply closet. It measured 3 metres wide and 4 metres long, which was not very comfortable for someone who was mostly made out of long noodle arms and legs. Next to the door was a corkboard of possible leads and clues, which took up most of his wall space. The remaining space was taken up by a small, abandoned bookshelf, which had Tinsley’s old classics, such as Sherlock Holmes and many crime novels from various authors.

Shoved against a corner was his working desk made out of ash and was about as long as the room was wide. There was a barely functioning desk lamp on it, and the messy documents took up most of the room on the table, leaving little space on the table for any of his personal belongings. The only item that he truly treasured on the desk was a picture of him and his family laughing and playing in the background. It was taken by one of his younger cousins, where they spent their day at the waterpark. Tinsley breathed in sharply when he saw his younger self’s face, lit up in joy and wonder, unlike present him, looking like he just spent the night in a garbage bin.

Tinsley sighed as he flicked on the switch for the desk lamp and collapsed on his office chair, which creaked under his weight. He wanted so badly for the dull throbbing on his cheek where Ricky had struck him to just stop. He just wanted to close his eyes and never open them again to face a new day. However, the outrageous pile of papers on his desk kept bugging him and demanded attention, as well as the rapid banging on his door.

He craned his neck to face his annoyed coworker, a pretty lady named Holly Horsley. Even at half past twelve, her makeup was still perfect and there wasn’t any visible wrinkle on her neat grey blouse and skirt. Her long, brown hair was tied back into a messy braid which fell over her shoulder, and underneath all that makeup, her eye bags clearly showed how tired she was. In her arms, she was carrying another pile of documents, larger than the ones on Tinsley’s desk. 

She wrinkled her nose at the sight and smell of Tinsley as per usual, and rolled her eyes at the piled workload on the desk. Holly would often comment something about the ongoing case, but she kept quiet for that one particular day.  _ It is probably nerves _ , Tinsley thought, as she dumped the contents onto his already overflowing desk.  _ She must be quite tired right now. _

‘Hey Holly Hooman, are you okay?’ Tinsley spoke, his voice wore thin with concern and a sliver of a purr. He hesitantly reached for her arm to try and comfort her, not as a friend or colleague, but as a potential soulmate of his. Don’t get him wrong, he has had a teeny tiny crush on her ever since that horrible accident which pretty much stole everything from him, his dignity, his family and of course the love of his life. To see them in the fire, to listen to their screams knowing that he could do nothing about it, while the perpetrator laughed with sadistic delight... 

He immediately shut down that thought.  _ You promised yourself that you wouldn’t think about her again. Forget the past and focus on your work, Tinsley. You have a serial killer to catch.  _

‘Charles Cooper Tinsley!’ Holly yelled out suddenly, startling Tinsley while she jerked her hand away. ‘For the love of God, control yourself!’

‘Are you al-’ 

‘Well, does it look like I am FINE?’ Holly snapped in annoyance, aiming one of her famous death glares at him. ‘Ever since you fucked up, I am the one cleaning up your messes! And you have the nerve to come back here!’ 

‘Well-’

‘Don’t even get me started on today’s case, Tinsley! We had a chance to catch this-this killer and you fucking blew it! Leaving the fucking crime scene and running off like a headless chicken!

__

‘I was-’   
  
‘For fuck’s sake, Tinsley. I was the one who asked Banjo for your help, because we need your experience in this case. Look, I am sorry about what happened in your last case, with your ‘love of your life’ and all! But for the sake of everyone here, please fucking get your head back in the game, unless you wants yours to be the next one to be rolling in an ummarked road!’ 

Tinsley pinched his nose to calm himself down. Once Holly goes on a ranting rampage, there was no slowing her down. He recalled a time when someone accidentally spilled coffee on her dress, and she went into a rage for 2 hours. Why he found it sort of endearing was beyond him, however, it was her dedication to her work that made Tinsley like her in the first place. She would spend her nights analysing hidden details and clues about a case. It warmed his weak and broken heart that she chose him for this case. She knew she could not work alone, so she asked  _ him _ to help her. For that reason, Tinsley knew he could not disappoint her ever again.    
  


He straightened himself up, coughing into his palm to interrupt Holly. ‘Look, I know you are busy and all, it’s cool. But I didn’t just run off for no reason. I did manage to find a lead on the case. Can you please investigate the name Ricky Goldsworth? This may sound pointless right now, but I promise it would be worth it later.’

Holly stopped dead in her tracks. Clearly, she didn’t know that he had a name for her when she came into the office. If it turns out well, then perhaps Ricky is to be considered as the main suspect. Well, in Tinsley’s mind, Ricky was not a suspect, but a definite murderer, but there was something about Ricky that made Tinsley doubt himself.    
  
Was it the easygoing smirk that unnerved him? Or the threats that seemed to have meaning behind them? Ricky didn’t seem like the type to issue simple threats just to boast and mislead the police, more like a cruel executioner preparing to land the killing blow. Call it a gut feeling, but Tinsley couldn’t help thinking that he had met Ricky before that night... 

‘If I am to investigate this claim of yours, Charles. What evidence can you provide of this Ricky Goldsworth? I can’t just report back to the big guy with no true sources. Your word isn’t that reliable anymore,’ Holly’s voice cut through his train of thought. Tinsley cursed silently. Of course, Banjo told Tinsley that he would be treated like a novice again, after his last case where he basically fucked up everything, costing the lives of more than a few of his relatives. 

‘As well as that, where did you get your information?’ Holly raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed with his lack of response, thus elaborating on her point that he was not as capable as he once was. ‘As far as I can tell, when you suddenly left the crime scene, there were witnesses that claimed that they saw you chasing after imaginary specters. I hope you haven’t gone batty, Tinsley. I really do. But…’   
  
She hesitated, not wishing to offend her colleague. Tinsley saw the answer in her eyes as soon as those words left her lips. He had gone mad. He was going insane. He had not fully recovered from his last case.    
  
He was broken.    
  
Something Ricky had said earlier echoed in Tinsley’s ears. He could imagine those cold, dark eyes staring at him from the shadows of the room, and the cruel smirk as he watched Tinsley finally grasp the hidden meaning of his words.  _ You would get into trouble for abandoning the scene of the crime to chase down someone who doesn't exist. One might say you are going crazy, maybe get that head checked with the mental asylum down the road. _

‘Look, it has been a long night, Charles,’ Holly sighed, giving Tinsley a somber look. She held out her arms for a hug and Tinsley leaned into it graciously, inhaling her sweet perfume of cinnamon and wood spice. He had to bend down in order to accommodate her small petite figure, but she exuded a warm aura which promised safety and comfort, as long as she is there. This Holly was quite the opposite of the raging Holly from 20 minutes ago. Tinsley wasn’t sure which one he liked the most, at least the raging Holly got shit done. 

~~~   
After Holly left, Tinsley found himself pouring his heart and soul into those documents, slowly examining each case file of the victims. The first one was a female named Jennifer Laws, a relatively well-known actress in LA. This case happened when Tinsley was still investigating a case in Ohio, which was about 3 months ago. The only thing the killer had left behind was a decapitated head along with a black rose with a golden bow tied around its stem.    
  
There were muddy footprints in the park where Jennifer was found, similar to the day’s case. Jennifer had a record of keeping child pornography images in her car. One witness described her as ‘someone who was constantly flirting with the law’, since no charges were pressed against her for some reason. Tinsley studied the images of the crime scene, shivering in disgust when he saw the pool of blood around a grinning head. Her eyes were wide open, with thin scar lines on various parts of her fair skin. Her blonde locks were soaked with her thick red blood. 

If this was the first of Ricky’s work, then Tinsley dread seeing the other ones. He continued to look through the Jennifer Laws file, in hopes of discovering something that the police have missed. Maybe a definite clue that Ricky had left behind to identify him as the killer? Or something that could be used as a motive for the murders?  
  
  
Tinsley skimmed through the rest of the pictures, slowly yawning as the night wore on. With each minute that passed, his body began rebelling against him. Occasionally, Tinsley would doze off, only to wake up at the face of the murdered staring at him.    
  
  
He sighed and pushed the file away, his weary body finally winning the fight. Tinsley decided that he needed to catch a break from this case, and opt to pass out for a few hours before continuing on it. 

  
  
But something started bugging him as soon as he closed his eyes. 

‘Alright, fuck it,’ He murmured to himself, forcing his eyes to open. Something wasn’t right and Tinsley needed to be alert and wide awake, not a decaffeinated sleepyhead in order to prepare for this. He stretched his aching limbs and pushed his chair aside. Tinsley twisted his door handle and stopped. 

Why was it dark all of a sudden? The LAPD was always active, even at 2am. It wouldn’t make sense for them to suddenly turn off all of the lights without telling him…

‘Bravo, Tinsley, head out into the dark alone, why don’t ya,’ Tinsley cursed, fumbling for his flashlight in one of his many pockets. He could barely see 5 feet ahead of him, and that was with that crappy desk lamp of his. If Tinsley couldn’t find it, then well… he’s fucking screwed. 

There was something about total darkness that made his skin crawl. He supposed that he could tolerate mild pockets of shadows in his office, because the light would always chase them away, But here in the dark, all forms of light would be swallowed by the abyss of inky blackness. 

‘Hey, guys…’ Tinsley called out, reaching for the walls with his left hand while rummaging through his pockets with his right. Someone must have stayed behind right? Why would everyone just leave without informing the sheriff or him? ‘Can someone please turn on the lights? It’s getting hard to see here…’

There was a shuffling sound beside him, making Tinsley jump back for a second. He tried to breathe calmly, reminding himself that he had dealt with serial killers before. He could deal with a bit of darkness. 

‘You’re at a bit of a predicament, aren’t you, Detective?’ Came the purring voice that would soon haunt Tinsley’s nightmares. ‘I thought I told you not to mess around with my business.’   
  
  
Tinsley froze in horror. 

Ricky Goldsworth is here. And Tinsley is alone without help. In the dark.

And he is fucked. 


	3. He who is an idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky shows up to give Tinsley a warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Shane when he was writing the Hot Daga. Just bunching together non-sensical stuff and hope that it eventually makes sense. He probably stayed up past midnight writing it out. (cough)
> 
> Well enjoy this stupid chappie. I don't even know what I was doing ; u ;.
> 
> If you like it so far, please leave some kudos. Like seriously, please. I am begging you. 
> 
> Quick shoutout to my friend @DammitHughes for literally being there for me + helping with the chappie when I was struggling with writer's block. This person is like God to me. 
> 
> This is slightly shorter due to the mentioned writer's block, but let's just hope the next one is a bit longer, otherwise I will start bashing my brains out. This is the only thing keeping me sane during quarantine. Please stay at home though! 
> 
> Also if this story gets 100 kudos, I might have to open a Discord server to share outtakes that eventually got cut. Because seriously, I wrote way too much. Also please excuse my poor descriptive skills and random bullshit.
> 
> Onwards to the next chappie I guess XD? 
> 
> Random side note: In my country, it's currently April Fool's so uh.. I am not planning to do anything.. Have fun pranking others Ig.

Every muscle of Tinsley was locked in place. He could not move for the life of him, which looked like it’s going to end soon, anyway. He felt the murderer brush against his arm, and suddenly gained a new kind of empathy for blind people. Is this what the world is like for them? Unable to see what the world has to offer, yet feel every single movement, knowing that one wrong step could cost them their lives?

‘You do have an affinity to meddle around,’ Ricky sighed in the darkness, ‘Granted, it’s your case after all. But somehow you just had to tip-toed your little human body into Los Angeles, where some of the best kept secrets are left in the dust to rot.’

He pressed something thin and sharp to Tinsley’s neck. It felt cold against his carotid artery, and Ricky could easily slit his throat if he chose to. But for some reason, he didn’t, choosing to hold it there in position long enough to make Tinsley uncomfortable. 

‘Have you looked into the first case yet, Detective?’ Ricky breathed into his ear. ‘It’s quite a scene, isn’t it? These humans… Always so predictable. Be it a simple murder, they are like scars left forgotten by age and time. To my observation, humans do not like being reminded of trauma, so someone had to go out and remind them.’

Tinsley could feel his pulse hammering against the knife, as if it was silently begging Tinsley to let it go. Death was beckoning to him, yet he couldn’t tear himself from the living world. He had work to complete and a certain Ricky to catch. 

‘Look, Goldsworth…’ He faltered, unsure of his words. If he played this smartly, maybe he would escape with his life, maybe with a little bit of pride knowing that he had survived two encounters with the Black Rose Killer. Tinsley cleared his throat to continue, ‘what’s the point coming here if you are to play with your fancy words and knife? To threaten me and then go on your merry way?’ 

  
Honestly, the level of his geniosity sometimes astound him. And he didn’t mean it in a good way.  _ Way to go for playing it smart, Tinsley. You may have just killed yourself. _ _  
  
_

Ricky chuckled humorlessly in the dark, putting even more pressure on Tinsley’s neck. ‘I thought you had that part figured out, little Detective. Even the basic human can understand words, can’t they? Or am I speaking in Latin? It’s kinda obvious, isn’t it? You looked into the file, thus yet again exposing yourself to my business.’ 

‘Look, you said it yourself. This is my case after all.’

Ricky grumbled something unintelligible, relaxing his grip on the knife a little bit, giving Tinsley room to breathe out slowly. He was rummaging for a pair of handcuffs, recalling what Ricky had told him earlier that day. 

_ Would you look at that? I don’t have them on me.  _

By sheer dumb luck, his fingers brushed against the door handle of his office, giving Tinsley an idea. Slowly, he lifted his elbow, not daring to alert Ricky of his intentions, and wrapped his fingers around it. 

‘Oh come on, Detective. No last words before you go?’ Ricky snickered, disrupting Tinsley’s concentration. He could see that Tinsley had no other option, and was simply savouring the fear that shone in Tinsley’s eyes. Ricky’s body was rigid with anticipation, his knife thirsting for blood, when it happened. 

The door behind Tinsley opened and both tumbled onto the hard oak floor that made up his office. Tinsley was panting, the air in his lungs knocked out when he fell onto his back. His tailbone felt like it had been bench-pressing for a while, resulting in sharp bursts of pain that spiked through his body every time he tried to move. 

‘Ah fuck. Ah fuck,’ He grunted, trying to push Ricky off his leg. His heart was pounding like mad, never had he tried such a thing before. Ricky was shaking his head, looking dazed as he tried to figure out what was going on. For a serial killer, Ricky sure looked cute when he was dazed, the way his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, along with his mouth slightly dropped open in an ‘o’. 

That could have been applied to any serial killers, not just Ricky, Tinsley hoped, feeling blood rush to his face, which was probably a result of his fall and not a crush on the killer. Who was he kidding? He only had room for one crush, and he had never felt this way before, not with Holly and Sara. 

‘I- I never thought you had it in you, Detective,’ Ricky coughed out, wheezing as he clutched his ribs. Tinsley edged away from him, feeling the dread building up once again when his back smacked against the wall. Normally, it would be hilarious when a grown man crouched under his table, but Tinsley was not deterred because it was a matter of life and death. It gave him time to search for anything that he could use to defend himself. He even considered using scrap paper as a shield, being desperate enough to do anything against that knife. 

Ricky reached for his knife and stood up shakily, his laugh echoing off the office walls. ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are, Detective.’

Tinsley wrapped his fingers around something. Judging by the shape and silhouette of it, he determined it to be a pistol. How he managed to find a gun in his office was beyond him, however he was nonetheless grateful. He scoured the area where he found it for ammunition, yet he turned up with nothing. 

He had to assume that it’s loaded. Otherwise, his life might have just been wasted. He placed his finger on the trigger, just as Ricky bent down to look underneath the table. He didn’t look surprised when he saw Tinsley with a gun and didn’t move at all when Tinsley slid out of his hiding spot.

Tinsley eyed Ricky cautiously, aiming the gun at the serial killer. He began to walk towards the door when Ricky suddenly struck out like a viper and pinned him against the wall. Tinsley cried out in surprise, wincing in pain due to his injured tailbone. 

‘It’s a good thing you found it,’ Ricky grinned, tightening his grip on the hand that held the gun while waving the knife in his right hand, ‘But too bad it wouldn’t last you long.’

The detective grimaced, twisting his hand to loosen Ricky’s hold on him. He gritted his teeth harder with each twist but to his horror, Ricky only made his grip tighter. 

How the fuck does he even have the strength to do that?

‘Good try, Detective,’ Ricky smiled coldly, getting so close that Tinsley could smell the man’s scent oozing from him. Oddly enough, Ricky smelled like wood pine and cinnamon, but how Tinsley knew that could have been his mind beginning to wander off, preparing him for the inevitable that’s coming.

Another odd detail that Tinsley noticed as Ricky raised his knife was that he was sweating buckets, yet Ricky seemed to not have broke a sweat, making Tinsley wonder what the fuck is going on with the man. How could he have done all that without sweating?

Their close proximity gave Tinsley an idea. A very bad idea, but still an idea. Just as Ricky brought down his knife to land the killing blow, Tinsley summoned all of his strength and energy, then proceeded to kick him in the stomach. The kick was powerful enough to send Ricky flying through the air where he slammed against Tinsley’s table.

‘One more move and I will put a bullet through your brain,’ Tinsley warned, cocking the gun at Ricky’s head. ‘You can cooperate with me and I  _ will  _ put you behind bars. For real this time.’

Ricky softly chuckled and turned to look at Tinsley with a crooked smile, ‘What good is your threat against a celestial being like me?’ 

Tinsley bit his lip. Whatever the fuck Ricky was sprouting, whether it be ‘celestial beings’ and crazy horseshit, Tinsley decided he did not want to hear it. He held Ricky at gunpoint whilst looking for a pair of handcuffs, making the mistake of taking his eyes off Ricky, if only temporarily. 

The next moment, he found himself at the same old position he had been in a few minutes ago, making it the third time he saw those cold dead eyes up close that night. However this time, there was no time for hesitation, and those seconds counted in order for Tinsley to succeed. He took a deep breath and instantly shot Ricky in the chest. 

Once. 

Twice.    


Thrice.

Ricky stumbled back, his knife clattering onto the floor. Tinsley scooped it up, swiftly placing the knife into his pocket, before Ricky could do anything with it. He silently counted to three, giving his heart time to slow down. He never expected it to work so well, in fact he never expected the gun to have bullets. Tinsley whispered a prayer of thanks to God and whoever left it there for him, allowing him to defend himself against Ricky Goldsworth. 

‘Never bring a knife to a gunfight, motherfucker,’ Tinsley breathed out, placing the gun on his desk, the adrenaline and terror slowly fading away. He was panting from both exhaustion and pain, his mind reeling from what had just happened. Tinsley turned to face the unmoving Ricky in the corner, feeling a stab of guilt as he watched in silence. He didn’t mean to kill Ricky, all Tinsley wanted was a chance to interrogate him. But now it doesn’t even matter. When someone finds his body in the morning, no doubt they will point to Tinsley as the culprit, thus jeopardizing his already failing career. 

He was about to crawl towards Ricky’s body to search for clues when all of a sudden, Tinsley saw the body shudder. He wasn’t sure what had happened, no one could survive 3 shots to the chest. Nevertheless, he pulled out his phone to call 911, putting the miraculous survival down to luck. 

Tinsley managed to give some details to the emergency operator and kneeled beside him, checking for a pulse. The detective wasn’t even sure what made him want to help Ricky, considering that the man literally tried to kill him a few minutes earlier, but he wasn’t going to rely on the ambulance arriving on time to help him.

Due to the dim lighting, it was hard for Tinsley to fully know where the wounds were so he chose to lay Ricky’s body flat on the ground. Ricky’s peaceful face reminded him of a sleeping angel, clear of any troubles and unease.Tinsley blushed, he looked like something out of a rom-com, rather than a horror movie. He stopped, mentally slapping himself. Now wasn’t the time to fantasise about someone he hardly has a crush on. 

He pulled off Ricky’s shirt, wiping the blood off his chest, when Tinsley stopped short.

The detective was no medical expert but even he knew that normal human blood, in its rich red thickness, would be pooling around the fallen man, not whatever Ricky Goldsworth had circulating in his body. 

Tinsley's heart quickened and his hands began to shake. 

‘No, no, no, no.’ 

Yet there was no doubt about it, he knew something was off about Ricky as soon as he laid eyes on him. 

The proof? 

The blood Ricky Goldsworth had wasn’t red at all.

It was gold. 


	4. The truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's just say...
> 
> He isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: This is more of a filler chapter, since I got wayyy off track and began thinking about Tinsley's backstory. Skip to the end if you need to, there is important information there.
> 
> Also, I haven't been in the mood to write chappies lately, maybe it's due to quarantine idk. As of writing this note at 12:30am on Thursday March 9th 2020, I am pretty tired and catching up with homework is hard. Please stay safe out there guys, and thank you to the frontliners aka the medical staff.
> 
> Please don't do anything stupid during this fight against the virus. 
> 
> Luv ya all.

He thought he was prepared when the ambulance arrived. 

He was wrong.

His hands were shaking, his mind blown by all the weirdness that had happened in the past few hours. 

‘What the fuck,’ He would find himself breathing out every few seconds, begging for a sign that it was a dream. Every so often, the wail of the ambulance sirens reminded him of his harsh reality. 

Tinsley kneeled down, picking up the smaller man and hoisting him over Tinsley’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His energy was mostly spent, his strength gone. Standing up was proving to be no easy feat. Tinsley kept grunting as he pushed himself off the ground, huffing while his arms trembled with effort. He tried to ignore the liquid gold staining his hands, or the fact that he is currently carrying Ricky Goldsworth, possibly the most dangerous man alive on Earth. 

But what kind of man has golden blood circulating in his body?

Was Ricky some kind of alien or something? Was that why he wasn’t sweating? Does that explain why he has liquid gold?

‘This could be some sort of fever dream, or that I am hallucinating,’ Tinsley muttered into the darkness unconvincingly, his arms shaking with pain. 

Somehow, though painstakingly, he found himself standing up, wobbling with each step. He stumbled through the police lobby, straining from the extra weight on his shoulder. Who knew Ricky was so heavy?

He managed to make it to the front door before his legs fully gave out, collapsing under Tinsley while the unconscious Ricky dropped onto the floor like the human meat sack that he was. Everything within Tinsley was hurting, his lungs aching for air, his wounds throbbing. Every breath that Tinsley took were knives piercing his already weakened lungs, while every little movement that Tinsley did just made the pain ten times worse, causing him to almost black out. 

He was clawing for the door, reaching out for it weakly, when it suddenly sprang open, revealing a troop of paramedics standing impatiently. They rushed in, scooping up Tinsley and Ricky with ease, carrying them out of the building on stretchers.

The sky was becoming lighter, with fingers of sunlight stretching from the horizon. Tinsley supposed that he had stayed up the whole night, what’s with working on the case, as well as the fight with Ricky. He lifted his hand, peering at the golden stains of blood left on it. He went cross eyed, trying to figure out what was going on.

‘Hey.. hey.. Miss?’ He slurred at one of the female paramedics watching over him. She walked over to him, her eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. He supposed that she had other important things to attend to, rather than a sad, pathetic, babbling mess of a man. He held out his hand, letting her examine the blood. 

‘That’s blood,’ She pointed out, wiping Tinsley’s sweat with a disgusted snort with a lacy handkerchief, before proceeding to wipe the blood off his body. Tinsley found it odd that she wasn’t commenting about the colour, so he pressed on.

‘Yeah… but what colour is it?’

She sighed, mildly exasperated and highly unimpressed with Tinsley, ‘Red, like any other human’s blood.’ 

‘No, Miss. You don’t understand. This blood is golden…’

The paramedic sniffed dismissively, ‘I’m going to get that head checked, Mr. Tinsley. It’s quite obvious that you must have a nasty fall and hit your head or something.’

‘I’m pretty sure that I saw golden blood,’ Tinsley squeaked out timidly as she walked away, muttering something to one of her other colleagues. 

Why did she say that the blood was red? It was so obvious that it was  _ gold _ . It could be that she was lying to him, but why would she do that? What would she gain from it? Maybe it was just him slowly losing his sanity. For all he knew, Ricky Goldsworth was a name he just plucked out of his mind and slapped on a random person’s face.

He started laughing at that thought, his tired mind finally cracking under the pressure. Every passerby and paramedic on scene stopped whatever they were doing and stared at him, some had concerned looks, while others just glared at him questioningly. He waved them good-naturedly, too engrossed in that insane idea.   
  


He was definitely losing his mind. And he found that hilarious. 

Tinsley felt his stretcher shudder, before being lifted to be loaded onto the ambulance, where the humming of the machines seemed to be the only source of noise, besides the low hushed whispers of the paramedics. He heard a loud thump as well as someone grunting as they pushed another stretcher into the ambulance.   
  


The quiet drone of the machines seemed to calm Tinsley down. It was kinda comforting, in the sense that it allowed him to sleep for the first time in forever. His weary eyes flickered shut, the last thing he saw was the still body of Ricky Goldsworth sliding into the space next to him.   
  
He told himself that it was going to be okay.   
  


But he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.   
  


~~~   
His eyes snapped open, making him gasp and sit up.  


Everything was white around him, the walls, the beds, the uniforms that the nurses wore. He was even dressed in a white hospital gown. There was no one else in the ward, saved for one. Beside him, Ricky laid there in his bed, unconscious with an IV drip attached to his left forearm. Tinsley still felt a pinch of guilt as he turned his head away to face the door, dreading the moment Ricky wakes up and tries to murder him again, even though they were in a controlled facility. 

Recent events came crashing back to him. The golden blood, the paramedic’s dismissal of it, and everything else. His hands shook, was it just a hallucination? Was he going insane?   


The door sprang open, making Tinsley flinch. A middle-aged doctor strolled into his ward, his hair a messy rat’s nest, his pair of glasses hung on the edge of his nose. He was quite tall, roughly about 10cm shorter than Tinsley and seemed to be balding, his remaining hair sticking out in clumps like spikes on a cactus. His stethoscope hung loosely around his neck. He seemed quite amused to see Tinsley. 

‘Hello, Detective.’ The doctor smiled, sitting on Tinsley’s bed. ‘I am Doctor F, and today I will be asking you some questions, regarding your physical and mental health, due to ahh... some concerns from my staff. Have you had any traumatic experiences that you can recall that happened pretty recently?’

Tinsley chuckled sadly, over the years, he had plenty of experiences that gave him PTSD, yet there was one that stuck in his mind. It started off with 7 months of constant paranoia and anxiety, and it ended by a gunshot and his dying partner. 

It was the spiralling wormhole that he fell into in the months after that haunted him the most.   
  
~~~

He told himself that she chose to stay with him, something that shouldn’t have happened in the first place. The unspoken fear he saw in her eyes, when they came, with their grotesque animal masks, revealing only their horrible crooked smiles, lit up by the lightning flashing behind them. 

That was the only time he saw them, but he knew that they were on him for a while. Lurking in the shadows for the better part of the 7 months he was there. Sending threatening messages via text. Warning him. Stalking him. 

He shouted for her to run, bringing out his gun for defence. Yet she clung onto his arm, her eyes filled with determination and fear, her mouth forming the words he longed to hear for all of his life. 

Another second and she could have lived. 

But instead he hesitated, frozen in spot by what was happening. The leader leered at Tinsley for a split second, before turning to her, the fatal bullet loaded in his own pistol.

They called him a valiant hero after he had single-handedly taken down the terrorist group that had been terrorising the state for years. They awarded him with medals, bouquets and free meals. They cheered for him when he appeared on stage.

But he wasn’t a hero. He was a broken man who was running on adrenaline, his heart shattered into pieces as he watched her bleed out on his front porch. He was someone who swore revenge and justice.

Even after the group had been caught, he still suffered in silence, his personal demons slowly gnawing away on his soul and health. He would often wake up in a cold sweat, reaching for her hand, before realising that she was, in fact, gone forever.   
  
His personal loss even leaked into his work. On good days, he would find himself thinking about the happy memories that he had shared with her. On the bad days, which happened more regularly, he would get intense visions of her downfall at random, his brain replaying the image over and over again, until he was down on the floor, knees tucked into his chest, his voice hoarse from screaming. 

~~~

‘You could say that, yes.’ He told the waiting doctor. ‘I did have a pretty recent traumatic experience.’   
  


‘Interesting… This could explain the odd hallucinations that you were having. You were saying something about golden blood back there?’ 

‘But how could it be a hallucination when it felt so real? Like I was staring at it for 5 minutes. It didn’t change colour, do any funny tricks whatsoever.’

  
  
‘You sure you’re not colourblind?’

  
  
‘I have seen blood before, yes. I know it’s red. I know that normal human beings have red blood, but him-’ Tinsley gestured to Ricky, ‘I know that whatever he is… It’s weird and certainly not normal.’

‘I’ll tell you something, Detective,’ The doctor murmured in a low voice, ‘our scanners did pick up a lot of things about him a normal human wouldn’t have, yet only you and I know that there’s something off about him. What does that imply?’

‘Something is wrong with our eyesight? Or maybe the others are blind?’

  
  
The doctor smiled coldly, his eyes darting from Ricky to Tinsley. He leaned in, as if sharing a secret with the detective. ‘In a sense, both answers are right.’

‘Wha-what?’

‘You see, there are very special 1 percenters out there who can  _ see, _ ’ The doctor whispered into his ear, ‘A class that both you and I fall into. Those, like him, are what we can see. It’s a beautiful gift, frankly. Yet it often drives a lot of them mad. Have you ever heard of the third eye?’

‘I- yes.’ 

‘Look, I should give you time to process this all,’ The doctor said sympathetically, ‘It’s not something to be taken lightly, given that you’re probably stressed right now. This is like the introduction to your abilities…’

‘Am I allowed to say that you are crazy?’

‘You know I am perfectly sane,’ The doctor grinned, not taking his eyes off Tinsley, reminding him of the look that Ricky once shared with him. They shared the same, mad glint in their eyes that was reflected right back at him.

  
  
‘Am I good to go?’ Tinsley asked, getting pretty uncomfortable with the subject. He gave the doc a hopeful look, who sighed in response. 

‘Your vitals seem to be good. There have been no visible wounds, so we’re going to do a scan for internal ones later.’   


‘But can I go later?’

The doctor clicked his tongue doubtfully, ‘If everything is fine within you, yes.’ 

Tinsley sighed and leaned his head back in content, peering at Ricky in the corner of his eye. He seemed to be good, with no signs of blood or anything else on his shirt. Tinsley wasn’t sure why he was concerned over a literal serial killer, yet he brushed it aside, thinking that it was due to his tiredness.

‘Look, I should probably go now,’ the doctor said, standing up and smoothed the crease where he had sat before. He gave Tinsley a sideway glance, unsure of what the Detective was to do next. Tinsley seemed to be lost in thought, his mind thinking about what the doctor had said.

Slowly, he twisted open the door handle, but not before pausing to look at Tinsley once more. 

In a soft voice, the doctor whispered, ‘Those people are called seers, by the way.’

And then he clicked the door shut, leaving Tinsley alone with a serial killer for the third time in two days.


End file.
